


Department of Magical Relations

by Wonderfulworld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Romance, Smut, Too horny to be slow burn, Workplace Sex, kind of, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderfulworld/pseuds/Wonderfulworld
Summary: I hated every moment of it. Well that’s not true. There was a certain sound she made when I slid in the first time, every time, and there was a certain angle she found with her hips that I thought about for the rest of the day but I hated those too in their own way.Draco Malfoy and his struggles with the door of Hermione Granger's office.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Department of Magical Relations

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I do have school work I should be doing instead of this. What of it?

**Draco Malfoy, Assistant** ~~**to the** ~~ **Manager for the Department of Magical Relations**

I had been working as Assistant Manager for the Department of Magical Relations for a week and a half before I asked what exactly we did. The department had been brought in with the new year and it seemed that none of my colleagues were aware either. Department manager, Hermione Granger, described it as a Human Resources department but then stuttered through a long winded explanation of why it  _ wasn’t _ an HR department. We both left the conversation more confused than we’d been when it started and I never brought it up again. I did my job fine despite it and never bothered to find out what a Human Resources department was in the first place. The other members of the office liked her, it was a mix of devoted fans and old classmates, and the entire department had been a promise of Shacklebolt's during his campaign.

Every morning I would slump into my seat behind my desk, perpendicular to The Manager’s office, and sip on my coffee until Granger arrived. She was always just a few minutes late, something which baffled me originally considering her long history of punctuality and general reliability, but I minded my own business. If rumours were correct she had a red haired fiance who probably wasn’t eager to let her out into the cold wet weather of London in January. 

As she arrived each morning she would call me into her office, always sitting behind her solid wooden desk and already working on her first task of the day. She’d then pass me my own pile of forms and documents and people who needed contacting before waving me off to work until the end of the day. I’d then take the pile outside, distribute tasks to the necessary people and complete the rest at my desk. Once I was finished I’d take what was left of the pile back to Granger’s office and leave with a sharp nod. Sometimes she’d fake a small smile in return. 

Almost a month into this schedule, Hermione arrived even later than normal and the office died down to silence as she held back sobs on her walk through the department before slamming the door to her office closed with a loud bang. Having finished my morning coffee for the first time since starting, I watched with suspicious eyes as the rest of the office started to whisper amongst themselves. I stood, cleared my throat, and then addressed the team for the first time. 

“I know you all have work to do so let’s keep gossip to a minimum. She deserves better than that.” There were reluctant nods and murmurs of consent and I nodded, tried a smile and then settled for a grimace before making my way to the coffee machine. I knocked on Granger’s door moments later and heard a small surprised squeak before she called for me to come in. 

“Oh! Malfoy.” Her face was blotchy red and she wiped tears off it with shaky hands, sniffing a little, and I shut the door behind me. She turned to the drawers and shelves behind her to hide her face and to find the work she was going to assign for the day. “I was just going to- just give me a minute.” She slapped more tears off her face before desperately sorting through a file. 

“Granger.”  “I was going to set you the Werewolf case-”

“Granger.”  “-just to start looking at though as I think we’ll need to leave action on it until late spring at the-”

“Hermione.” She finally turned to look at me and I held out the cup of coffee. “You gave me the Werewolf file yesterday. I’ve already started looking through it.” I stepped closer, approaching like one would a hurt animal, and she took the coffee from my outstretched arm. She nodded, hiccuped around a sob and then sipped at the hot drink. 

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head at her but she continued. “This is unprofessional, I know.” 

“I’m sure I’ll survive it, Granger.” She snorted out a chuckle and, like the Pureblood gentleman Narcissa raised me to be, I offered her an embroidered handkerchief from my jacket pocket. She took it with a weak smile and blew her nose. She looked between me and it with slight disgust on her face and I chuckled. “You can keep it, I have plenty.” 

“You find enough girls crying that it warrants a collection of handkerchiefs?” She was teasing me and through the shock of it it took me a moment to respond. 

“Now let’s not play into gender stereotypes.” I smirked at her. “How do you know I’m not crying in the bathroom stalls during my break?” Her face split into a grin and I fought to keep one off my own face before turning to leave.

“Ron broke up with me.” I paused before my hand reached the door. “Well, I guess it was mutual.” She laughed softly and then blew her nose into the handkerchief again. “I’m not really sure why I’m crying to be honest.” I turned back to her. 

“I’m not sure I’m the best to help with that. We don’t have a famously strong relationship.” She nodded and then wiped her eyes with the corner of the handkerchief. 

“I bet they’ve all gone wild out there.” She nodded to the door as I shook my head. 

“They wouldn’t dare.” I sent her a reassuring smile. “Do you need anything else? I’d punch Weasley, but I don’t think locking myself up in Azkaban again would help anyone.” She shook her head and then I pulled open the door and ventured back into the wild, closing the door behind me. 

The office fell suddenly silent as I walked back out there and I nodded in what I hoped was an authoritative way before returning to my desk. 

~

She decided that we were friends after that, at least what I supposed friends would act like if they were also your boss who used to hate you, and for good reason. She started arriving at work before me, standing by my desk with coffee when I arrived. Her behaviour confused me at first once again, before I realised she was trying to pay me back for being vaguely chivalrous while she was broken-hearted. I let her make me coffee before one day stopping her with a deep sigh. 

“I-” It was one of the most difficult conversations I’ve ever had to have, worse than when I apologised for ever calling her Mudblood and worse than when she got drunk and asked me to show her the Dark Mark, “The thing is you’re a very talented witch.” Her eyes were wide and vulnerable like I was rejecting her, which in a way I guess I was. “But I’m sorry Granger, you’re absolutely shit at making coffee.” She huffed and slammed the coffee cup on my desk, slamming her office door behind her. A few minutes later she re-emerged to find me grimacing my way through the drink, my face sour as I tried to swallow it down. 

“Show me how then.” The whole department watched as Draco Malfoy instructed Hermione Granger on the basic components of decent coffee. When she finally finished and presented it to me rather dramatically I sipped at it before nodding reluctantly and a round of applause burst from the workers. She pursed her lips and directed everyone to go back to work before stealing back the hot drink and sipping at it, watching me over the rim with wide eyes. 

The next week she started wearing heels. Not ridiculously tall ones, granted, but enough for me to notice the height difference. I assumed it was unimportant, a dare from the Weasley girl or some kind of disaster had befallen the rest of her footwear. The top of her forehead was now level with my lips, instead of my shoulder and when I sat in chairs I had to strain my neck just a little to look all the way up at her face.

The week after, she’d been on a shopping trip. Her skirts fit her now, stopping suddenly before her knees and her blouses were tight enough to suggest some kind of figure beneath them. I spent the whole week with my eyes glued to the desk after making the mistake of staring the first day. She’d caught me and blushed red, slamming her door shut with wandless magic. 

She left her office door open more often however and whenever I’d turn to look at her I’d catch her looking back down at her desk with blushing cheeks. Ernie Macmillan started smiling more and it was increasingly noticeable whose desk was neighbouring mine, directly in her line of vision. I felt almost offended for the Weasel, pushed aside so swiftly and for a Hufflepuff no less but I tried to ignore it. 

He wandered into her office at all hours of the day; leaning against the doorframe or slouching in the chair by her desk or showing her some grammar or spelling error in someone’s work to make her laugh. She always laughed, flashing him a grin and leaning back in her chair. Sometimes she’d be eating, normally some kind of muffin in the morning although every so often she’d receive a box of chocolates in the mail. It was quite the traumatic experience; watching her pick one with deliberation and then eat it slowly, licking and sucking the melted chocolate off her fingers as Ernie chattered on about proper punctuation. It became a pet peeve for me, sitting right outside with a perfect view in as she chewed slowly before offering one to Ernie and gave him the box to share around the office.

She always left her door wide open. She’d call different people in or they’d just wander in on their own and I’d sit, working through stacks and stacks of paper as her voice carried out of the room. I started closing her door every time I stood up to stretch my legs or grab coffee or just because she clearly wasn’t aware of how sheer her shirt was that day and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it. She always opened it again within ten minutes and studied me for a minute before returning to her desk. I refused to acknowledge it because it would involve a difficult conversation about pining Slytherins and jealous natures. 

She started doing lunches, every other Thursday on the one free lunch block in her time table. She’d gather whoever was in to sit around the large table in the boardroom and eat their lunch together. She had claimed they were good opportunities to confront issues in the department or between members in a casual way as she suggested the idea, presumably expecting some input or advice that I didn’t have. Then I had to sit opposite to her and watch as she licked yogurt off a spoon. I left early, barely scoffing down my sandwich before running back to my desk. I knew she’d be upset but I thought she’d be even more upset if I leant across the table to slide my own tongue against hers and I considered it a necessary precaution. 

One day I closed her door, almost a reflex at that point, without even looking inside and a quarter of an hour later Ernie left her office, raising a knowing eyebrow at me and pulling a disgustingly self-satisfied smile. I was in the worst mood of my life for the next week. I raised my voice at interns who forgot to copy a document the right amount of times. I stomped across the extensive floorplan like some kind of troll. I sneered vague quips under my breath during staff meetings. By Friday, after a particularly awful Thursday involving both a box of chocolates  _ and _ a small smudge of yogurt that wouldn’t detach from her lip no matter how much she licked it, I was basically in mourning. I worked until the others had gone home, Ernie being the only one brave enough to wish me a good weekend, and then stood, pulling my coat off my chair and over my arm. 

Her office door swung open and she stood there looking uncharacteristically nervous for a moment and I looked her up and down. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and held her head a little higher. 

“Could I speak to you in my office, please?” I looked around the rest of the office and held my hands out to the empty desks and chairs. “Just-” She pointed me in and I rolled my eyes before following her instructions. I almost groaned as she closed the door behind her and rubbed a hand down my face as she walked past me to sit in her chair. 

“What is it you need?” I hung my coat over the arm of my chair and sat forward in it. “Because it’s a Friday and I do  _ actually  _ have plans.” She ignored that, sitting forward in her own chair to look me dead in the eyes. 

“Do you hate it here?” 

“What?” 

“Do you hate it here?” Her voice was emotionless and she tilted her head as she studied me. “Because I thought you quite enjoyed it.” Her voice rose a little. “You certainly didn’t hate it when you arrived, so I’m just trying to figure out what went wrong.” 

“Nothing, Granger.” 

“Really? You strut around in all black suits groaning and sucking the joy out of everyone like some kind of dementor.” I’d misinterpreted her anger for nervousness. “I know you don’t want to be here and I understand that but your attitude is getting ridiculous.” Oh if only you knew Granger.

“I just had a bad week.” I attempted a smirk. “I’ll be bright and bushy tailed come Monday.” 

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you hate it that much I'll just ask for you to be transferred, I’m not quite sure what I was thinking having you here in the first place.” I stumbled over my words for a second. 

“I’m sorry?” I shook my head. “You wanted me here?” Her eyes blazed with something I could only describe as righteous fury. 

“I heard they were going to put you in some terribly boring data job downstairs where you’d probably be surrounded by people who worked for your father at some point and I figured that you’d prefer it here.” This was news to me, I’d been specifically told that they had picked a random position fitting my qualifications. “I shouldn’t have assumed and I’m sorry. I’ll start the paperwork this weekend and you can be down there by next week.” Whilst pining from outside her door and sneering at 18 year olds and dreaming up ways to hex Ernie Macmillan wasn’t the greatest of lifestyles, the alternative of seeing her once every other month in a lift and pretending to ignore each other wasn’t viable. I was hooked now and no matter how ridiculous it was, I was going to wait it out. Maybe if I just worked harder it would die down, if I left now I’d be obsessed from afar for the rest of my life.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll work harder.” She seemed unperturbed by my protests, pulling my transfer document from her drawer, obviously pre prepared. I wondered if she’d had it there the whole day or whether she’d kept it since the day I’d arrived just waiting for an opportunity. 

“It’s not your work that’s the issue really, Malfoy.” I swallowed at her matter-of-fact tone. 

“Fine, then what is. I’ll change it.” I’ll change anything. Seriously, just tell me what you hate and I’ll get rid of it. I’ll stop drinking coffee and dye my hair a different colour. I’d even consider ginger if you just smile at me like you smile at that ridiculous Hufflepuff. She sighed and looked up at me. 

“No, don’t-”

“Seriously, Granger tell me what's wrong and I’ll fix it. Is it my suits? My attitude? How can I change it?” My eyes roamed her face as she froze. Her voice was quiet when she spoke.

“It’s not your suits.” Apparently that’s all she felt the need to say, sliding my transfer sheet back into her drawer and standing swiftly, not looking at me as she did so. She held out her hand across the desk a little hastily and I swallowed heavily, more than a little confused by her sudden turn around but took her hand all the same. 

Weeks upon weeks of meetings and unexpected coffees and chocolates that she swore she couldn’t eat all herself and finally she was quite literally within reach. I lingered on the handshake too long, fingers twitching nervously against her smooth skin.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty awful this week too.” She said, attempted a grin and I returned it. I couldn’t think of something witty to say, to draw the moment out, and so I pulled my coat off the back of the chair. We blinked at each other for a small moment before she pulled her own coat from her chair and walked round the table. I rushed ahead of her, opening the door for her and gesturing for her to walk through, attempting a friendly smile. She looked up at me, blinked once again and then her lips were on mine and I froze. We were still some distance apart, not pressed against each other like I imagined, and her lips were sealed tightly shut against mine and the door to her office was wide open. I’d been the one to open it. 

I realised too late that the processing of all this information had left me frozen, stood stock still as she kissed me. She pulled back, red in the face and eyes already glazed with tears. She adjusted her coat over her arm, looking at it intently as I studied her in turn. Then she was stepping away and all the information processed at once. I grabbed her wrist before she’d made it to my desk and pulled her back to me. 

Finally she was as close as I wanted, chest to chest with her eyes glassy and looking up at me. I raised a slightly trembling hand to her face, tucking a curl behind her ear as her breath hitched before pressing the pad of my thumb to her bottom lip. She shifted her weight on her feet, her own hands in fists by her sides. I could practically feel her struggling not to look around the empty space suspiciously, instead keeping her eyes trained on mine. I smiled internally at the thought of someone forgetting their wand or their bag and coming back to their workplace to find Miss Hermione Granger red in the face and heaving breaths as her Gryffindor bravery let her down. Perhaps it wasn’t cowardice keeping her from filling the space between our lips once again, or the risk of outright rejection, it clearly hadn’t bothered her moments ago. Instead maybe she was giving me the space, the inches between our lips as an olive branch to do with what I willed.

I’d have to kiss her this time. I’d have to kiss her well enough that she’d forget her painful attempt moments ago and our tense not-quite-fight minutes before and how I’d acted for the last week. Not to mention the years before then. I’d been standing there for too long, once again caught up in my thoughts as a pretty witch I wanted more than I dared to admit looked at me like she wanted to consume my very being. 

“I’m not going to kiss you again, Draco, unless you ask me to.” She said softly, my thumb slipping from her lips slightly after her tongue flicked at it as she spoke. I threaded my fingers through her hair instead, angling her to me and slanted my lips against hers. No peppering small kisses on her cheeks, no quick peck on the lips. Just my mouth pressed to hers, taking the hot breath from her lungs. Tongues pressed against each other as she rose on her tiptoes, wobbling precariously before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling my head down further. It was intense, almost choking as she wrapped herself around me and I felt something suspiciously close to feelings in my chest. 

“I actually  _ do  _ have plans.” I murmured against her mouth, hands gripping at her waist and hips now as I walked her backwards into my desk. “I wasn’t just being a dick.” She pulled her lips from mine, kissing along my jaw as I talked. “I have to go see my father.” She froze, her arms loosened around my neck and she stepped back. I reached out a hand to grab her for a second before realising I’d practically asked her to stop, she was just trying to be nice. Perhaps nice wasn’t the word because her eyes were still dark beneath her eyelashes and any Legilimens worth their salt would’ve told you that what my mind was filled with was not exactly nice either. She crouched to pick her coat up, I hadn’t even realised she’d dropped it in the commotion, and slipped her arms into it, pulling it around her. I felt almost guilty for a moment before she shot me a smile. 

“I’ll see you on Monday then?” She said, fingers playing with the winter hat she’d pulled from her pocket. She pulled it over her curls, adjusting it on her forehead as I smiled.

“I look forward to it.” I pushed my hands into my pockets, waiting for her to leave so I could stand for a minute or two alone before facing my father. I could practically imagine his face if I arrived in his office, red in the face with ruffled hair and the smell of Granger’s perfume covering me. 

~

The weekend was surprisingly bearable, after Lucius looked down his nose at me and made a single snide comment about how awful it must be working for a muggleborn he was distracted by thoughts of funds and briberies and whatever else the bastard cared about when he wasn’t actively being a blood purist. Blaise Zabini announced his engagement on Saturday, followed by copious amounts of drinking. He then woke a room of hungover Slytherin’s on Sunday with the announcement that he had since broken his engagement. The news was met with groans and shouts as he ducked hexes and tried to explain the extremely complicated relationship he’d had with a muggle he’d met 48 hours before. This was followed by more drinking. 

By Monday my headache was still pounding and I lay my face against my desk until someone coughed slightly above me. I mumbled something in response and they coughed loudly. I lifted my head to see Granger standing at my desk and pursing her lips. I thought she was angry, possibly disappointed, but a laugh burst out and it hurt my head even more. 

“I just wanted to apologise.” I was confused for a second before the memories of Friday evening came flooding back. Of course she’d do this mere feet from where I’d almost lifted her onto my desk and knelt to press my face between her legs. She blushed and for a moment I thought I’d said that all out loud. I would one day, now I knew how her cheeks glowed when she was embarrassed but today probably wasn’t that day. “It was- inappropriate of me.” 

It really fucking was now I thought of it, her leaping on an employee on Ministry property, but I didn’t tell her that. I wished she’d staged this conversation in her office where a silencing spell would be all that’s needed, although perhaps some kind of Pepper-Up potion as well just to keep my eyes open. 

“You’re forgiven.” I said, fighting a smirk at how confused the statement made her. She was clearly expecting some kind of fight from me, or perhaps she wasn’t used to apologising. I said nothing else. I was not about to apologise for the closest thing to sexual action I’d had in years. She stood there in silence for a minute, eyes darting between my eyes and lips before she nodded. 

“That’s good.” I smiled at that. Extroverted Granger was struggling socially and the schoolboy within me flourished. Then she turned around and clapped twice for the attention of the rest of the room and my blood turned cold. “Let’s keep the noise  _ up _ for today. Assistant Manager Malfoy decided to show up for work with a hangover.” I’d misunderstood her once again; it was a public execution.There were jeers and laughs from around the office, one particular intern even suggesting that all Howlers for the day, something we received incredible amounts of considering our work, be sent to my desk. He had previously been my favourite, the only other Slytherin in the office, but I could rapidly feel his status slipping as the others laughed along. Granger turned back to wink at me and walked into her office, closing the door behind her for once. 

I stumbled my way through a day of meetings, snarling at my Slytherin intern in front of his peers until he returned to the boardroom after his break with a coffee which he placed in front of me without a word. 

“What’s this?” I scoffed at him, poking it with my pen. 

“Hermione said it’d help your mood.” He shrugged and then sat between the obnoxious Ravenclaw who handled class XXXX accounts and the Gryffindor who I was around 70% sure he was dating. I took the coffee and sipped at it tentatively, if anyone would poison me it’d be a Slytherin and Hermione Granger. It wasn’t bad and I fought back a smile as I opened my folder to start our next meeting. The entire room seemed to let out a tense breath, back in their normal relaxed state. 

As was my move, I waited until Ernie Macmillan left, surprising him with an almost friendly smile and wave, before standing in the doorway of her office. Granger’s hair was particularly frantic that day, pulled back from her face with a small pin and otherwise flying out from her head. I watched for a moment before coughing. She lowered her wand, all the sheets of paper around her pausing midair as she looked at me. I held up the work the team had completed and offered her something halfway between a smile and a grimace. She waved me in, flicking her wand again so the papers stacked themselves orderly on a shelf behind her head. She walked around her desk to take the work from me, flicking through it and nodding quickly, making small humming noises as she did. 

“I’m surprised. You managed to get Karley and Harper to do work.” She smiled up at me before turning over one of the sheets to study it. “They’re usually flirting too much to even notice the rest of us.” She made a small note on the corner of a page as she spoke, pulling a pencil from within the giant volume of her hair.

“These new kids have absolutely no respect for the establishment.” Her eyes flicked up to mine, presumably to check if I was joking or not. I grinned as she rolled her eyes a little, turning to place the work on her desk before turning back to me. “You have to wonder what goes through their heads before they just blatantly-” 

“Yes. Thank you, Malfoy.” She crossed her arms as she faced me again. “I think I get your point.” She fought back her own smile as I raised an eyebrow at her. “Was there something else?” 

“No.” Untrue. There was unlocked potential in making fun of the swottiest person I knew for acting unprofessionally and I was practically overflowing with ideas. She pushed the pencil back into the giant volume of her hair. I turned to walk to the door and then stopped. “Actually…” She cocked her head at me as I shoved my hand into my pocket to appear casual. “I’d like to rescind my forgiveness.” Confusion, then embarrassment, then anger covered her face in the span of a second. 

“Pardon?” She settled her shoulders back and crossed her arms across her chest. A familiar image of her berating younger students came to me; all she was missing was the prefect badge although I was almost certain she’d kept it through the years. 

“I don’t accept your apology, Granger.” I was well aware that walking back towards her was akin to walking into a lion’s den but there was something about making her hackles rise that made me feel powerful for the first time in years. “Or whatever it was you tried to get away with earlier.”

“I-“ She swallowed as I stepped even closer. 

“Because I don’t believe that you’re truly sorry. Are you?” I was practically pressed against her now, her hands gripping the edge of the desk as her eyes flicked across my face settling on my lips. 

“I- well- it was-” She was breathing a little heavier, her cheeks turning a little pink as I studied her studying me. I pressed the palm of my hand on the desk beside her hip and her eyes darted down to look at it before she looked back up at me. I mimicked her stuttering and then mock-gasped, fighting to keep a smile off my face. 

“Is the little Gryffindor too scared to ask for what she wants?” I was well aware how angry this would make her, hoping for some clarification or another deep blush. What I got was a coffee flavoured tongue down my throat and a small whimper against my mouth as she pulled me closer by the collar of my shirt. I gripped at her waist as I tried to pull her closer, lifting her onto the table to wrap her legs around my waist. She was suddenly hurried, hands working down the buttons of my shirt before I could stop her. She had three buttons undone before I could grab her hand and pull my mouth from hers. Her mouth chased after mine for a moment and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What do you want, Granger?” She growled a little, tightening her legs around my waist as I chuckled. She tugged at the hair at the back of my head and ground herself against me, smirking in response. 

“What do  _ you _ want, Malfoy?” I blinked down at her for a second, cocking my head to study her as we shared breaths. Then I kissed her again, slowly and softly with my hand at her jaw and thumb resting on her cheek. She moaned a little into it and I smiled against her continuing the pace even as I could feel her frustration, leaving small nips along my bottom lip. I dragged my free hand down her back and played with the edge of her skirt for a moment as she deepened the kiss again. 

“ _ Malfoy. _ ” She panted and I slid my fingers under the skirt. 

“ _ Granger. _ ” I whispered back, she lowered one hand and for a moment I thought she’d reach for my belt. Instead she grabbed the hand under her skirt and guided it further up until my fingers were pressing the cotton of her knickers. She pulled her face back and looked at me seriously. 

“You can’t call me Granger with your hand in my knickers.” I stifled a grin, pushed the cotton aside with one finger and slid my finger into her. 

“Hermione.” She glared at me for a second, fighting her own smirk before arching her chest towards me as I pushed my finger further in the smallest amount, crooking it a little. “You have to tell me what you want.” She whined as my thumb pressed a little too close to her clit. 

“I- I don’t-” She fell back against the desk with a  _ crack  _ and I jolted, one hand still between her legs as the other reached for the crown of her head. She slapped it away with a scowl. “I’m fine.” She pulled herself onto one elbow for a second, contorting into strange positions to pull my other hand from her and roll her knickers down her legs. Then she pulled me back towards her by my belt and was almost finished unbuckling it when I grabbed her hands. 

“Wait.” She panted, looking up at me with a look I’d never seen on her before. “Granger.” Her eyes squinted and I rolled my eyes, running my hand up her leg rest on her hip under her skirt. “ _ Hermione _ .” 

“Just-” She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as I lightly ran the tip of a finger along her entrance, “Do  _ something _ .” I grabbed her by the hips again, pulling her to the edge of the desk and then kneeling in front of it. I felt her shift to sit up as I pulled one leg over my shoulder and looked up to see her pupils wide, hair flying around her as her chest heaved. I quirked an eyebrow and she lipped her lips absentmindedly before settling back against the desk. “This isn’t exactly what I meant.” 

“I know.” I smirked once again. “Are you going to tell me what you really want?” I heard a rustling and assumed she was shaking her head. “Alright.” I slid my hands from her hips to lift her by her bum closer to me before diving in. 

She murmured something and her hand grabbed at my hair as I held her open, thumbs either side of her cunt as I worked my tongue into her heat. I licked my way up to her clit, pressing with the barest amount of pressure before sucking quickly. She made a choking noise and her hips bucked. 

“Say it, Granger.”

“God you-you’re such a- please-”

“Hmmm” I pressed my face into her as I made a skeptical humming noise and she shifted again. “Not quite.” 

“I’m not-“ she broke off on a whine as I pushed my middle finger into her. “That’s not fair.” I couldn’t fight the smile on my face and looked up at her face, watching her pant for a moment. I kept looking at her as I pulled my finger from her before replacing it with two. “ _ Malfoy. _ ” She finally looked down at me, her eyelids hooded and her pupils blown wide and I sucked in a breath at her intense gaze. “Stop being a dick.”

“Patience, Granger.” I smirked at her as she attempted to shift her hips, I grabbed her waist with my free hand and held her in place. “You’re being so good for me.” She moaned at that, eyes squeezing shut and I chuckled. I circled her clit with my thumb, not using enough pressure to get her anywhere but enough for her to keep making those noises. “Say it, Hermione. Ask me.”  I pulled my thumb away from her again and she made a frustrated noise before leaning up on her elbows to glare at me. 

“Are you going to fuck me across my desk, Draco? Or are you too chicken?” She raised an eyebrow, eyes shining with mischief and I froze for a second under her gaze. 

“Fucking Gryffindors.” Within seconds I was stood between her legs again, belt unbuckled and running my hands up her legs as she tugged my trousers down my thighs along with my trunks. She took me in her hand, gripping tight and pumping from base to head. I swallowed a moan in my throat and grabbed her hands. She stuck her tongue out at me and I chuckled for a moment before grabbing my cock and holding it against her entrance. “You sure?” Her eyes flicked up to mine and she fell back against the desk once more, pulling me down with her by my shirt and pressing a kiss to my lips. She flicked her tongue against mine and whined a little into my mouth as I started pushing in. Her eyes rolled back in her head as I let out a groan into her shoulder. 

“Fuck.” She whispered and I almost nodded in agreement before standing up straight, grabbing her by the hip with one hand and intertwining our fingers with the other. I pulled out a little before slamming back in and she keened. 

“If you try to apologise for this in the morning I’ll quit.” She looked at me with confusion. 

“What?” 

“You heard me, Granger.” I punctuated it with another pump of my hips. 

“ _ Hermione. _ ” I rolled my eyes and then bent to kiss her again. 

“Fine.” I murmured against her lips. “Her-mi-o-nee.” I pulled my hand from her hip to press against her clit. 

“God-  _ Draco _ .” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have to get up in the next 5 hours to do something productive, this is your sign to go to sleep you insomniacs. Xx


End file.
